2022-09-13: Their Impact
- Log: 2022-09-13 Their Impact
- Cast: Kaworu Nagisa, Mari Makinami Illustrious, Shinji Ikari
- Where: Tokyo-3, Free Japan
- OOC - IC Date: September 13, 0096 (2022)
- Summary: Mari and Shinji catch up with Kaworu on the anniversary of Second Impact to celebrate his birthday.
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
The anniversary of Second Impact. It would be all well and good for Kaworu to have called off from school and his various other responsibilities, but simply lying in his room at his temporary hotel lodgings all day wouldn't have been any better. At least at school, he'll get to see Shinji and Rei.
So he attends classes and listens to a particularly long lecture about the world before that supposed meteor destroyed everyone's way of life; he endures the way most of his classmates continue to ignore him; he remains silent during testing at NERV HQ as the adults talk about the old days, good or otherwise. When it's over, and he's changed back into his school clothes, there's still some daylight left. He takes a train to the surface, where gray skies, matching the band of his metal wristwatch, have bloomed into a monotonous drizzle.
He doesn't have an umbrella with him. A little rain isn't going to affect someone like him.
And though it's raining, he wanders the city to no particular destination or purpose. Traffic lights flash; cars stop and go; trains roll by between skyscrapers. Even with all this austere grandeur, a single kaiju could--and has--wreaked so much havoc. It wasn't that long ago that Alexis unleashed a massive on on the city, though the swift repairs would do their best to convince one otherwise. And the next Angel will be...
Kaworu stops in the center of on an overhanging crosswalk, hands tucked in his pockets as usual. He gazes down over its edge at a black procession below. Several long, dark cars slowly move by as local police directs other traffic out of their way. A parade of sorts, to honor the day? Or simply a normal funeral at an inauspicious time? They're so featureless (in typical Tokyo-3 fashion) that it's hard to tell.
Either way, Kaworu turns to watch them go, unsmiling. Rainwater drips through his gray hair and plasters it to its face, or soaks his already quite wet clothes, or pools around and passes by his sneakers. But that's been a fact for a while now. He hasn't paid it any mind since he got off the train earlier, and he pays it no mind now.
It feels... correct, for him to bear witness to this.
Relena Peacecraft teleports in.
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
Tokyo-3 is a city built on mourning.
Meant to celebrate an excess of life, it was gutted after the mass loss of life of the Second Impact and the wars that surrounded it, instead turned into the bastion-city it is today. In a way, the entirety of this city is a living, breathing memorial to the Second Impact and every subsequent anniversary that would follow. The most clearcut sign of its consequences.
Inescapably, and always.
Maybe it's not so strange, that the entire city rebuilt around it dedicates itself so wholly to preserving its tragic memory, to the point even a passing fleet of black vehicles could as easily be a funeral procession as it could be a memorial of the fallen. That it rains today might simply be the icing on the cake to a fitting birthday. It doesn't matter really, does it? A little rain won't affect him. And maybe feeling its cold pitter patter soak him down to the bone is just as well.
Maybe Kaworu Nagisa should be mourning most, in this city of mourning.
Maybe. But...
Kaworu is already well-soaked by the rain and shielded by an overpass by the time a shadow crosses over his head in a little whisk of wind. The rain has already long done its work on him.
But an umbrella finds its way protectively overhead, all the same.
It is bright pink. The topmost part of the canopy has been decorated with a pair of cat ears that complement the :3 etched at the bottom-front of the umbrella perfectly. Even the handle has been cleverly designed to look like the curled tail of a cat. So who else could it be--
"Hii, Tabby Cat~."
... but Mari Makinami Illustrious, dressed in ripped khaki pants, a black shirt decorated in a chaotic splatter of crimson, black, low-rise heels and an aggressively red jacket -- not worn, but just draped over her shoulders like a comfortable cape. There's a reason for that, of course. Ostensibly, she goes to a School, Somewhere. These are certainly not school clothes, but. Such is Mari's way.
A medium-sized package is tucked against the crook of her arm, adorned in blue and red wrapping paper and comfortably unmentioned.
"Someone looked like he could use a little less rain on his parade!"
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
At school, Shinji is terribly preoccupied. He arrives late, excuses himself from conversations, stares into space, and, now and then, checks on what seems to be a book hidden in another book. He glances more to the clock and he is quick to rush home -- so much so that Shinji does something unthinkable. He cuts class. He's gone before school is over, trusting that the day of memorial isn't going to cover anything he'll have to suffer on a test.
It's rude, he knows. Inappropriate, probably. He's late to arrive to testing at HQ, even ruder still, mumbling his apologies. But perhaps, on a day like today, everyone has their own preoccupations. Perhaps today, people are more willing to excuse odd behavior. The adults, at least. The mood is grim and somber, and Shinji gets by on his somber -- and today, slightly sunken eyed -- look fitting in.
But in truth, he was too young to fully appreciate the magnitude. There is no wonderful before for Shinji ruined by a horrible after. There's only the nightmarish now, and he struggles to grasp how one day turned his life into that. It always was.
...And tragedy is, for once, not where his thoughts wonder. Shinji hurries himself once the day's obligations are done, rushing to get his perfectly folded pile of clothes back on his body instead of a plugsuit, trying to find Kaworu while being highly over protective of a square, white cardboard box.
A material which makes the rain a most unwelcome guest. Shinji makes a distressed noise in his throat before hurrying out into it, trying to remember where he thought he saw Kaworu go. Between desperately trying to keep it dry and handling an umbrella, hands full, the obvious solution of just contact Kaworu feels impossible to a mind already overwhelmed by a new, novel loop of overthinking and growing nervousness.
Foot traffic. Cars. The rain. The city has so many perils.
By the time Shinji reaches Kaworu, the umbrella is guarding the box more than it's guarding Shinji, shirt beginning to stick to him and water drizzling from his bangs. It isn't half as bad as the rain soaked Kaworu.
"Kaworu...! Are you -- ah..."
The greeting he had on his mind wilts away as Shinji looks over Kaworu's rain soaked body. Mari is also here, met with surprise. Shinji glances to the box under her arm and smiles weakly. It doesn't hold, looking back at the state of Kaworu.
"...Sorry, if I'm, ah, interrupting..."
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
It isn't even the only devastation the world has faced over the last several decades. That might be the worst part of this time around: there are so many events that could have (and in other continuities, nearly did) brought about the extinction of the human race. That Second Impact is only one of many, and not even the most recent, only undermines its meaning to those who suffered through it.
But here, at least, it's always had a special meaning. Whether that's better or worse depends on one's perspective.
Kaworu had noticed Shinji's distraction, of course. But he'd been wrapped up in his own thoughts, to the point that he decided to leave the matter be. He'd already had such a lovely time with him a couple days ago, it feels selfish (ah, that word again, the one that's been plaguing him so much of late) to ask for more.
So when an umbrella slides in to stop the rain--when a white package takes refuge underneath with it--Kaworu blinks over at his sudden companions.
"Mary... Shinji," he says. He doesn't turn to face them just yet, but he does slip his hands out of his pockets. Shinji's apology gets him a soft, 'oh, you' sort of smile, and now he does turn. "You're not interrupting anything," he reassures him. He looks to Mari and the package under her arm, then beholds them both. "...I'm not sure what you would be interrupting right now, anyway."
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
'...Sorry, if I'm, ah, interrupting...'
"Oho?"
By the time Shinji has arrived at that rain-drenched overpass, Mari is already comfortably insinuating herself next to Kaworu under the snug cover of her umbrella canopy. Such is simply the way of the unusual, bespectacled young woman, however; she seems to care very little for the way the drenched clothes are getting her -own- wet as she snuggles herself in against Kaworu's side. Nothing gets in the way of her sweeping displays of aggressive affection.
But whatever has brought her here today is put on pause with that single excuse mumbled around a weak smile. Half-lidded, blue eyes roam their languid way towards Shinji Ikari. Dark brows lift, as Mari muses out that wondering sound. And then her gaze drops down towards that white, cardboard box.
"Oho!"
And a smile blooms wickedly at the would-be Child of NERV's lips. What could Shinji be interrupting?
"A celebration, of course!"
And with that, Kaworu will find himself saddled with something shoved towards one of his hands -- not that mysterious, wrapped package, but the kitty cat tail handle of Mari's umbrella, intent to foist it off on him in order to free her hand to do two things:
Thing the first: that red jacket comes sweeping off Mari's shoulders in a flourish until they drape over Kaworu's. The rain means little to him, of course. But it's not about that, is it? It's the gesture.
Thing the second: as soon as Mari's jacket is relinquished?
She is upon Shinji with shining eyes.
"Now is not the time to lose your nerve, young Puppy Boy~!"
And this is the declaration Mari makes as she looks to wind around Shinji, grip him by the shoulders, and shove both him and his special package Kaworu-wards with a "tally-ho!".
She also looks to pluck his umbrella from him in one sly motion, such that - alas! - there is but one umbrella to be shared between Kaworu and Shinji.
"... You have something for the Tabby Cat after all. Don't you?"
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
Shinji's face heats up with that particular smile, feeling somehow caught in something he shouldn't be doing -- that would be the constant apologizing, but Shinji will not be acknowledging that today. Primarily because Mari is giving him plenty reason to think he's interrupting. He looks at her snuggled to Kaworu's side, face no less red for it, and back to Kaworu.
Unfortunately, Mari can multitask.
Moments ago, part of Shinji was grateful for Mari's presence, what with her gift and her apparent intentions. Now Shinji is staring at the shining eyes of what every instinct tells him is an apex predator. Then he is beset upon. He gives a startled cry of "tally-what?!" as he's shoved forward, umbrella all too easily stolen away, both he and Kaworu huddled under a single umbrella for all the good it will do either of them now.
"Hello," Shinji offers weakly now that he has been thrust into Kaworu's personal space, his head ducked down, but his eyes still daring to look up. "... Happy birthday."
Many times today, Shinji thought it would have been better for everyone involved to give Kaworu nothing and not risked embarrassing them both. But it's as Mari says: now's not the time to lose his nerve. He has what he has. After a deep breath, Shinji gingerly lifts the box open under the protection of the umbrella, offering more of a peek than a reveal in an effort to keep its contents protected.
It's still not hard to see it for what it is: a cake. Small, perhaps better suited to three or four people at most. (Convenient that this is enough for present company, at least.) But what it lacks in size, it makes up for in decorative ambition. Fondant piano keys curl completely around the cake's side. Half the top is iced in blue with sugary, foaming waves frothing at an unlit violet candle, icing flowers, and an edible make-up palette -- each shade its own round cookie. Nothing is so expertly sculpted as to be mistaken for the real thing, and Shinji only had so much ingredients he could get his hands on. But they were still competent, appetizing depictions. Except for the candle. That probably wasn't intended for consumption.
"I. Um. I know it's. Well. You know." ...And yet, Shinji looks at this cake he made for his friend's birthday and sees something that failed to match his intentions. "But I think it should still taste all right..." He glances to Mari. "...With enough to share."
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
Kaworu doesn't shy away from Mari as she snuggles in next to him. Rather, her sudden physical proximity brings more of a smile to his previously somber expression. It's something very compatible about the two: Kaworu craves physical affection, and Mari is delighted to give it. Still, it doesn't answer what brings either of them here, or why they're carrying packages.
"A celebration?" he echoes, smile flickering away as his brows furrow, a few lines forming under his eyes. "This is hardly a day for that..."
But his protests are for naught. His hands free, he has no choice but to accept the cat tail handle of that umbrella. It means he can't stop Mari from draping that jacket around his shoulders, even if he wanted to--nor can he stop her from dancing around Shinji and shoving him under the same umbrella with him.
He opens his arms for Shinji instinctively, accepting and protecting him and his parcel as they both enter his personal space. The look he gives him is tender, but also uncharacteristically hesitant. Once again, he looks at Shinji, then Mari, and then both.
"I don't understand," he says. "What is this about?"
'Happy birthday,' Shinji says.
Kaworu stares down at him. He understands what he has heard; he is surprised anyway. "How...?"
Shinji cracks open the box he's carrying, just enough to let him peek inside. Kaworu lets his gaze drop to its contents, and they widen in response--first in wonder, then in delight--before he smiles so brilliantly it nearly makes his eyes squint shut.
"It's beautiful," he breathes. "You made this for me...?" He looks over at Mari as Shinji suggests they share; then he nods, pale cheeks unusually rosy. "...All right. Let's go somewhere close by, then."
They don't need to go far, at least. If all they need is a place to get out of the rain, they can simply cross the overhang and then seek refuge on the bench underneath it. For someplace warmer, which one of them might need to take their phone out to look up once they're at least directly out of the rain, there's a cafe a couple blocks down the road where they (Kaworu) can dry off and get something hot to drink. (It may not make a difference to him. But it makes a difference to his companions, and Kaworu cares very much about them.)
Either place they go, Kaworu will take the opportunity to use Mari's jacket as a towel to at least dry off his face and neck and take the worst dampness from his hair. It spikes even more than usual, but somehow it looks good on him. (It seems impossible, sometimes, for Kaworu to ever look bad.) Once he's done, he looks at both his companions with a faint but tender smile.
"You really thought this day was worth celebrating?" he wonders quietly at each of them.
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
Pitter patter, pitter patter goes the thick droplets of rain along the top of Mari Makinami Illustrious' head, now cruelly exposed to the elements.
She doesn't mind; it's voluntary, after all. Shinji's umbrella rests limply at her side as she relishes the cool feel of raindrops on her skin, and the sight of Shinji Ikari mustering up the nerve to give something precious to someone equally so.
'Happy birthday,' Shinji says.
'How...?' utters Kaworu. And Mari gets to bear witness to a truly rare sight:
A flush of rose on Kaworu Nagisa's pale cheeks.
"Ufu." o/`
Only then does she swing that umbrella up to offer her fairly unnecessary protection against the endless fall of rain, looking quite content. Why shouldn't she?
"Away we go~!"
She got a gift in exchange for a gift, after all.
---
Mari follows along at a languid pace, looking quite content to give Shinji and Kaworu space in a way that is certainly just because Mari is a girl who moves at her own pace and not for any ulterior motives. She takes the opportunity to direct them someplace a bit cozier, offering directions towards that cafe like she knew the place like the back of her hand.
Which might be odd, for someone who is a transfer from Euro-NERV, but what is Mari if not odd by definition?
In the warmth of the cafe, Mari takes her time to lean Shinji's umbrella against the edge of their table once it's finally served its purpose (she offers a quiet "thank you for your service" to both umbrellas, as they have served her well) before languidly and bonelessly flopping backwards into her seat.
It's only then that she leans over to sneak a peek at the modestly-sized but ambitiously-designed confection hidden inside that box, brows lifting and an impressed whistle loosing from her lips.
"NERV's Puppy has hidden depths, I see," she observes, wonderingly. Her own package is set off to the side, just out of reach. Gifts are a matter of timing, after all.
She is wondering over the cakey wonder still when Kaworu's question comes. Blue eyes blink behind red-rimmed glasses. She looks back Kaworu's way.
"Hm? Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" she asks, as if the answer wasn't obvious; which doesn't stop her from looking sidelong Shinji's way. "Right?"
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
Jitters gnaw at Shinji in what feels like an hour stretched out in a moment as he waits for Kaworu's reaction. Is it rejection he's fearing, or a different stab at one of his many, many insecurities? (Trick question, it's everything.)
Relief floods Shinji's features when Kaworu smiles, and he reflects a shy one of his own back. It's tolerable, at least...! Should he quit while he's ahead? Should he not worry about what else he brought? But a cake and a gift is the tradition. It can be a hurdle for later, Shinji decides, as they get swept up into finally finding some shelter.
He remains protective of the box until Mari leads them to safety. Her cunning plans and ulterior motives all come to the diabolical success of Shinji sticking close to Kaworu without self-consciousness rising to ruin the moment. The cake must be kept dry, and there is only one umbrella. (Wait, what happened to his...?! Oh. Okay. That makes sense. It doesn't, but it's Mari so it does.) But more than that, seeds have been planted by another friend: some forms of closeness with certain people isn't as uncomfortable as Shinji might've thought before.
The cake may now breathe, set out on the table in full and freed from its box, though Shinji still handles it as if he made it from glass. It's actually made of fluffy sponge cake and buttercream.
Only once it is secured does Shinji try to dry any of himself off, but mostly his damp hair just gets mussed around and his shirt a little shaken out. It's fine enough for him.
Kaworu's question makes Shinji blink once. Twice. Mari is Mari and doesn't second guess saying the words Shinji's thinking, and he nods. "R-Right." He frowns quietly. "...Does it get pushed aside a lot? Because of..." He glances outside and back, a gesture meant to say without words the day that is today.
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
Is it cruel if it's self-inflicted? Well... maybe that's a question better left unanswered. Certainly Kaworu, who was inflicting quite a lot of it on himself for a rather longer period of time, is in no position to answer it.
But that's all right. The three of them make their way to Mari's suggested cafe, with Kaworu and Shinji sharing a particular closeness. Kaworu is not surprised by the former, accepting her directions in his usual stride. The latter... he savors, for as long as it lasts. He's satisfied with the friendship they have, but he still does crave physical contact. Getting to be so close to Shinji for any amount of time is more than enough of a gift in itself.
Soon enough, they arrive. He smiles over at Mari as she hangs the umbrellas and murmurs thanks to their service. It reminds him of the ancient Japanese legend of tsukumogami. (Perhaps not a legend? Kaworu opts not to tell.)
"Of course," he says fondly of Shinji's hidden depths. "They're equal to the challenger deep."
Why wouldn't it be, though? Kaworu's smile strains as his eyes hood and he stares unblinking at Mari. You know why, that look seems to say. But Shinji doesn't know why, so that sentiment remains unspoken, and thus perhaps, unaddressed.
Shinji asks a question that would make sense if they were all Lilim. Kaworu's smiles regains its sincerity, but also ruefulness. "Yes. They're impossible to separate from one another," he says quietly, and with full honesty.
A server comes by to offer Kaworu a few towels to dry off in and directions to the bathroom. When they catch sight of the cake, and a bit of conversation reveals the nature of the visit, they even offer to lend Kaworu a uniform to change into while his clothes have a chance to dry. A few minutes later, and he returns to the table far less damp than before, dressed in elegant black and white. No cafe apron, though.
"For the past while, I've developed a fascination with birthdays," he says as he sits with Shinji and Mari, resuming the earlier conversation as if it had never been interrupted. "An annual celebration of the day of one's birth. You were born--you came to exist--and that is a cause for joy."
He pauses. Shinji might remember the little get-together he organized for Rei's birthday; the bigger party he organized with Misato for Shinji's. While Kaworu still smiles, there's a certain heavy resignation to it. "...That's never applied to me." He looks down at the cake, and some of the joy he spoke of returns to his eyes. "I don't think I've ever been given a birthday cake before."
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
You know why, is what Kaworu's expression says to Mari.
I do, is what Mari's own wide-eyed look seems to convey. And yet...
She asks it all the same.
Maybe because Shinji is here. Maybe for the sake of a sense of normalcy they don't often get. Or maybe...
"Mm," exhales Makinami at the answer to Shinji's question. Hands locking behind the back of her head, one khaki-clad leg hooking over the other at the knee, she watches Kaworu with an inquisitive sharpness to her stare.
No words, however, are forthcoming. The server comes. And off Kaworu is shuffled. Mari, eyes hooded, offers an ominously entertained look Shinji's way.
And it's very subtle, the way she sneakily snakes her hand out to beneath cover of table --
until she is suddenly poking Shinji, right in the side.
<3 p r o d <3
"Good work~" she coos, in a way that could easily be construed as teasing or praising, in the way of many quantum cats.
And so Kaworu returns, all decked out sands apron; a lack of which inspires Mari to pout out a, "Aw, I thought you would be serving us~," on his birthday, because Mari knows no shame. But otherwise, she listens to what he has to say, head tilt.
She spares a brief moment to give a sly sidelong glance Shinji's way, as if to say 'see??'
Because, well. She has to.
But...
'...That's never applied to me.'
She eyes Kaworu. The resignation in his smile, even as joy sparks back into it. And she finally answers, more fully.
"'Life is not separate from death.' You should keep the people lost to the past close to your heart, but you should never forget to celebrate the lives worth celebrating in the present, too." Her head tilts. Her smile is small but sincere.
"I just so happen to think yours is a most worthwhile life, Tabby Cat."
Regardless of what she knows.
Or maybe even because of it.
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
There is so little Shinji knows. He believes Kaworu to be the sort of entity -- a human entity -- born a baby and grown up with a typically timed childhood including a family or, tragically, those meant to stand in for one. And he thinks he can imagine the loneliness of memorials and grief always held up as more important than a birthday. He doesn't have to imagine the general idea that there's always something going on more important than a birthday.
Mari seems to catch on too, and whether or not it's her true intentions, it all successfully draws Shinji into an idea this is all, sad as it is, sad in the normal and human way.
Thankfully, the staff is not here to shoo them out, and instead help Kaworu. Shinji smiles and gives his genuine thanks for getting Kaworu dry, realizing only too late this means he will be alone with Mari. Because Shinji does not actually dislike Mari, if he were asked about it. It is this likable quality she commands between her pouncing that makes her so deadly.
So it is that he flinches when he's poked, and with what might be a satisfying, strangled sound of surprise before his freeze instinct activates. Shinji stares back at Mari, face predictably flushing over with her teasing praise. (It does not matter which one it is. They would register the same.) It feels he's only settled back to sitting properly again when Kaworu returns.
"Huh. Those clothes seem to suit you..." It only occurs to him after he said it that it might seem like a tease of his own. But he didn't mean it like that...!
A glance is shared with Mari while Kaworu speaks, and Shinji is second guessing what it is there is to see. Moreso when Mari has something profound to share. Shinji goes quiet a moment before he finds his own response.
"To tell you the truth, I hadn't had a cake until you either." He still feels guilty that he's not the kind of person who can gather others together, like Kaworu can. That he couldn't give back what he was given. He has, instead, his clumsy efforts, and the luck of Mari's like minded arrival.
Shinji smiles in spite of the thoughts of himself. "That's not why I'm doing this, though. I don't want to just to pay it back. I'm glad you're here, Kaworu."
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
She does know. And yet, she asks it all the same.
Kaworu sighs, though breath continues to be wholly unnecessary for him. Air is very convenient, not just for being a vector for sounds, but for expressing things without the use of words.
Still, he doesn't dislike the facade of normalcy. On the contrary, it's quite comforting. Isn't that what he's been maintaining all this time? (If one could call Kaworu "normal" by any stretch of the imagination.)
"Would you like me to?" Kaworu wonders at Mari with complete sincerity. The crinkling of his eyes is just as sincere when Shinji tells him the outfit suits him. Teasing or not, he takes both of their comments at face value. "Thank you. Maybe I'll pick up a part-time job here, then."
One wonders where he might find the time to commit to a part-time job considering he attends two schools and also has an administrative job at NERV, but it's Kaworu. He always seems to find the time. (It helps that he doesn't sleep. That opens up a solid eight hours a day.)
But... there are more serious things to discuss. Mari offers her own heaviness, streaked with light. When she calls his life worthwhile, he smiles back at her. It's funny to hear her say so. But... it's also reassuring.
Shinji shares, too, about his own lack of cake until this year. "Shinji..." he murmurs. But as he goes on, his spirits lift, as do his eyebrows and the corners of his lips. He looks down at his wrist as he lifts it; the metal-banded wristwatch Shinji had given him back in March gleams there.
"When you gave this to me as thanks for helping you during the battle against the J-Ark, I was so grateful. Being given a gift like this meant so much to me. Even Akane noticed its presence... and when it was gone, for a time. During that time, a part of me wondered: did you give this to me as an expression of our friendship? Or did you give it to me because you felt obligated to?"
He smiles back up at him, muted but no less genuine. "So to hear you say that... it makes me glad, too.
"I really was born to meet you."
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
'Would you like me to?'
"Tempting!" answers Mari, and it sounds from her tone like it very sincerely is. Having someone serve her on their birthday? It's a pleasantly unorthodox reversal! How couldn't it tempt her?
"Maybe it can wait until you're officially sanctioned to serve. Then you can get Puppy Boy anything he likes in that fetching uniform and deliver him a smile every day~."
She knows no mercy, nor relent.
Except, of course, when the mood strikes; like right now, when Shinji confides a sliver of truth about his own birthdays -- his own life. The normally nonchalant Mari furrows her brows for a few moments, those customarily quirked lips now pressed into a little, unreadable line as her blue gaze tilts towards the window just beyond their table.
"..."
Fortunately, it is a thing brief and layered within the conversation unfolding between Kaworu and Shinji.
'I'm glad you're here, Kaworu.'
'I really was born to meet you.'
Mari is, despite all odds, utterly quiet in a moment that is rife for teasing. Her presence is a remarkably unobtrusive thing as if crafting herself into a wallflower to let this exchange go on unimpeded.
Like Schrodinger's cat, it's only until she's observed that she can be found, upper body slumped across the table, resting the side of her head against her forearm, watching the interplay with the smuggest, brow-raised, narrow-eyed smile in all the world.
You know the one.
https://i.imgur.com/cKCJ6el.png
"Fufu."
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
"Kaworu, please don't serve anyone on your birthday...!" Shinji protests, because he is once again unsure of the line between Kaworu joking and Kaworu being weird and completely serious. Is the part-time job a part of the joke...?! He cuts Mari a pleading look. Mari says more embarrassing things instead of helping, and Shinji sputters.
But there is a heavy atmosphere here to address on the nature of birthdays, and loneliness, and the miraculous chance it is for two lives to meet in the vastness of human history.
Shinji has never had great defenses against Kaworu's earnesty. He takes it in with his usual uncertainty, shaking his head as Kaworu mentions obligation, but any response Shinji's forming to reassure Kaworu short circuits.
I really was born to meet you.
Everything stops for a quiet moment, Shinji gazing back at Kaworu with the uncertainty in his eyes subtly beginning to shift. Not shock. Is that strange? It settles, warmer and steady, and Shinji smiles back. For a moment, the rest of the world isn't there.
For a moment. First, only Shinji's eyes move, then the all of him, chair complaining against the floor as he shoves back from the a whole Mari on the table. He chokes out a question. Rather, he tries to choke out several at once. It is incomprehensible.
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
"We'll see, then," Kaworu tells Mari, smile turning extra lopsided. For all her vicious and unrelenting teasing, he certainly doesn't look displeased about the concept. As Shinji pleads with him not to do that, though, he laughs a little.
"As you wish," he says with good-natured humor. (The humor is that he absolutely would have done it but Shinji's too cute to refuse. Why is this humorous? It just is.)
The conversation turns more serious, and at the same time, more heartfelt. Shinji and Kaworu's eyes meet, and they share a smile, as if the only ones present are the two of them. A world of their very own... Wouldn't that be wonderful?
But having other people around is wonderful too in its own way, as Mari and her draping herself across the table can attest. Shinji flails and sputters in response, breaking the moment. Far from disappointed, Kaworu bursts into quiet but robust laughter, one hand lifted to his mouth.
"You truly are an individual among individuals, Mary," he says with a different sort of affection. "I'm truly privileged to be friends with you. Both of you," he adds, looking back at Shinji. "When you and Akane meet... I have faith that you'll be able to reach her true heart."
His gaze returns to the incredible cake, and once again his entire being suffuses with warmth and wonder. He takes a moment to retrieve his phone from his pocket and start taking pictures of the sides and the top. This is art, and while ephemeral art has plenty of charm, this is something he wants to share with others should he get the chance--others like Akane. Even this moment is one shared with Mari, rather than one solely for him and Shinji. This time around has been like that.
"Have either of you met with her yet?" he continues, looking up at Mari and Shinji. "I did my best to talk to her, but she wouldn't listen to me, I'm afraid... Though I don't intend on giving up on her, either." He regards his photos fondly; then he tucks his phone away. Looking back at Shinji, he adds, "You said before that you met her in this world... How well did you know her?"
The server comes by again to give them drink menus and also offer to cut the cake for them. It's a good opportunity to pay back their kindness by ordering something, and Kaworu opts for mint tea.
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
Let us reflect, for a moment, on the subjectivity of time. Take, for example, this moment that seems frozen in amber. A heart-to-heart connection that seems to still in the eternal fractions between seconds. In some perspectives, it's an entire world encompassed in a single second, dragged out further than could ever be.
In others, it might be more precious because of how short it is.
The only certainty is, no matter how long a single moment is suspended,
tick
time inevitably passes into the next moment.
> fufu
> SPUTTER
> laughter
To Mari, each is a gift all its own.
Her good work done, the bespectacled agent of NERV lifts herself up into a more normal seated position; she stretches her arms over her head with a delighted and dazzling grin, the downward flop of her arms after disrupted only when she takes the time to fire off a saucy salute to Kaworu's praise.
"And yet somehow there's even more wonderful things about me, like my impeccable taste~!" proclaims Mari, epitome of humility. Still, it doesn't stop the wink she offers Kaworu, nor what she follows it up with:
"So you shouldn't sell yourself short either, or it'll make me look bad."
It's teasing. But sincere. The Mari classic.
And for some reason...
It feels like she was addressing it to both of them, not just Kaworu.
But as the conversation tilts towards Akane, Mari lets out a thoughtful "hum," but holds off from answering as the server arrives. She opens the menu, leans back, and considers. Her own choice?
Licorice root.
Something unbearably sweet perhaps isn't the best choice to go with the already overwhelming sweetness of cake, but, well. Mari seems pretty comfortable about it.
It's only then that she looks up again, regarding Shinji and Kaworu.
"Mmm. I haven't met her, no," she says, because specificity is important. "I'd love to, though! I think we'd have lots to talk about. Maybe I could get her to give me a tour of the city... if I could get one from the Hyper Agent's friends, that'd be great, too... hmmm..."
Maybe it's an unusual thing to want, at this point. But, really...
... Tsutsujidai is as critical a part to finding the solution to this conundrum of the heart as those other, crucial components.
For right now, though -- Mari's attention turns Shinji-wards, with plain interest in whatever he might have to offer.
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
"K-Kaworu!" Shinji stammers, scandalized, because that is the worst way Kaworu could have agreed. It plays right into the entire concept too well! Or is it just Shinji thinking that? This situation has become unwinnable...!
But for all Shinji fears such moments will be mortifying forever, they usually aren't. They always end. There's always something softer and calmer at the end of the tunnel.
Mari is also a universal constant. Shinji struggles to internalize this. (It is impossible. He will never be prepared.)
Kaworu laughs, Mari smiles, and Shinji's sputting becomes a sigh with his lips quirked more upward than one might expect. It's not a bad situation he's in. Shinji settles back at the table.
Mari says something about good taste and not making her look bad that Shinji should definitely internalize in regards to his friends, but won't be doing today. And yet Shinji regards her with a curious look. It did not go unheard, if not understood.
At the mention of Akane, Shinji's face falls. Her true heart... He hardly knows his own. But it's Kaworu's birthday, so Shinji nods instead of arguing. Retreating to his thoughts means he does not realize Kaworu is immortalizing the cake.
"I haven't met her face-to-face," Shinji says. "Not since... before. But a part of her was there in that fight at the festival. Her kaiju..." It's difficult to explain it the way he felt parts of a girl he barely knows threaded through the kaiju's construction and behavior.
It isn't until after ordering (he gets a safe, green tea for himself, not wanting to freeload off the cafe's hospitality) that Shinji pieces together his thoughts enough to speak.
"It's not like we were friends." Shinji squeezes the edge of his chair, tentative with his admission: "...I didn't have friends. But I'm not sure she did either. Sometimes she'd be with the first and second years, but never her own class. ...It might be weird to say, but that made me feel like I knew her at least a little."
He looks up at the ceiling.
"She was in fights with teachers often. I could hear it from the hall sometimes. It was about her hair at first, but..." Shinji's expression furrows, head shaking slightly. "...It sometimes seemed like it wasn't really about her hair." The intuition of a child, with no proof behind it. "Then it was politics. I -- I didn't know a whole lot about that myself, so it's hard to remember. But the longer it all went on, the more I saw someone who was..." Like him. "...Unhappy."
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
Time truly is subjective: a reflection of individual experience more than it is a rigid, unbending procession of measured seconds. The latter is arguably only the result of some Lilim trying to bend the concept of time to their will and take control. But time does inevitably move on, and that's why these moments are to be treasured. Even taking those photos--though it might be to share this gift Shinji's given him with others, it's just as much for Kaworu's own benefit.
For now, Kaworu giggles at Shinji's scandalized stammer. Whatever it is he's protesting, he's just so adorable when he does. Is it an unwinnable situation? Or is Shinji simply insisting on the wrong win conditions? Maybe Kaworu being at his service would be pretty nice. They won't know unless they try, will they? Though for the sake of Shinji's delicate sensibilities, Kaworu won't insist on that until after the day is done.
As for Mari: "Hmmm, your impeccable taste in what?" he wonders, his crooked smile still wholly amused. His gaze softens when she insists that he shouldn't sell himself short because it'll make her look bad. Then he ducks his head and chuckles anew as he folds his legs and rests his hands on his knees. "Hmmm... How like you to say so, Mary. Very well. It's true I am quite capable in many fields."
There's no cockiness or arrogance there. It's simply a statement of fact. But it's fairly rare to hear Kaworu acknowledge it. (Perhaps, given the broadness of Mari's address, it's his way of setting a good example?)
"I don't know if Akane will give you a tour... but then again, she might. If you're interested in getting in contact with the Hyper Agent's friends, I have contact information for Yuta, Rikka, and Sho Utsumi," Kaworu tells Mari. "Pick who you like, and I'll connect you to them."
Shinji, though... Shinji tells a darker story as he expresses yet another dip in confidence. "I know you will," Kaworu tells him softly, as if reading his mind. (He hasn't. He simply has a lot of experience with him.) "That's the kind of person you are, Shinji."
Still, he listens quietly as Shinji goes on about Akane's presence in the festival, in the kaiju--about what he knew about her before--about his impressions about her. He listens to what Shinji doesn't say, about seeing a kindred spirit in her. Kaworu understands that too without him having to say so; after all, he recognized that in Akane, too. It'll be a short while before they each get their teas back, but it gives them time enough to talk.
When Shinji is done, Kaworu nods. "I'm not surprised to hear that," he murmurs. "Tsutsujidai exists, as she would have it, as a way to protect her fragile heart. A way to push away all that's painful. On the surface, Akane can seem cruel and uncaring at times, but that's only another way of shielding herself... though she may not realize it herself, given how dishonest she is with her own feelings. Peel that dishonesty away, and she's actually quite sensitive. She yearns for a better world."
He pauses. "In a way, she's much like you--" his eyes flick towards Mari, "--and in another, she's much like the Second."
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
Her impeccable taste -- in what?
"Why, in whatever I apply my taste to, of course!"
The logic is sound.
As confident as Mari is in herself, in all ways, she is equally full of belief in the people around her; this is why she gives Kaworu the double finger guns and an "atta boy" when he concedes to his considerable capability. Shinji's curiosity, meanwhile, gets a wink.
It's okay if he doesn't understand now; he will eventually.
She believes in him.
Elbows on the table, fingers laced together, Mari coyly braces her chin upon that bed of digits as Kaworu mulls over Akane's potential reticence. "You think?" she wonders, as if the idea had never even occurred to her. "If she does or doesn't, that's fine. But you know, I can be very charming!"
One of her many gifts, as she's sure to expound when prompted. Still... pick who she likes? The answer to that is a simple one:
"I'll take all of 'em~."
Of course.
Her head tilts. And she regards Shinji in silence as the young man talks about Akane. The Kaiju...
"Because it's a part of her, don't you think?" she says, simply. "If you want to know the soul of an artist -- look at their art."
'It was about her hair, at first, but... It sometimes seemed like it wasn't really about her hair.'
Mari's expression softens. Someone who was... unhappy.
"Mm," exhales the undesignated Child of NERV. Blue eyes shut.
And then they flutter open, as Kaworu makes his comparison.
"Like me?" she wonders, thoughtful. "And her highness?" She considers this, for a long moment.
<3 "Aaaah, what a knockout combo~!" <3
She'll probably have more to say about that shortly. But for now -- she has something she has to circle back around to. Mari tilts her head, until her cheek is resting on her fingers, until that sharp, piercing stare of hers is focused on Shinji.
"You know the thing about unhappiness that really makes it stick, don't you, Puppy Boy?"
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
Shinji is being teased. He is being double teased, caught between Kaworu's giggling and Mari's state of being. This should be an indignation! But instead there's a warmth in it that has Shinji smiling despite his very best effort to give a Look in protest. His intimidation is in the negatives. This will startle no one.
"There is a lot you're good at, Kaworu," Shinji affirms, completely missing the example Kaworu's tried to give him. "Sometimes it's a little scary..."
Not frightening scary. Just, how, why, when?? scary.
But then there's the subject of Akane Shinjo. A grimmer, humorless point of conversation -- especially in Shinji's part of it. Kaworu tries to give him confidence, but Shinji is silent in uncertainty. That he isn't arguing the point, however, may be telling. He has to try. Or help others do it, at least. Yuta seemed to have a connection with her, beyond the obvious. Maybe if all Shinji has to do is connect bridges like that...
Mari gives her assessment on the kaiju. Art and its artists. "But some good things came out of Tsutsujidai, too, right?" Some good people. Shinji's hesitance is clear on his face. It's a complicated subject.
Kaworu's own idea of it makes a distressing amount of sense, yet Shinji goes sullen, shoulders drooped like he's been scolded. He glances to the side. "...I hope I'd... never hurt people like that..."
But he knows he might. He knows he could. He has no promise that, given the same power as Aken Shinjo, he wouldn't do so, so much worse than he already can just being normal Shinji. All in pursuit of a better world...
That's the scariest part.
Shinji's knocked out of gloom because there are hearts in the room somehow. He startles his attention back on Mari and her question. "Uh, maybe?" He frowns. "...No?"
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
"Of course," Kaworu echoes Mari with dry humor and a crooked smile. He might not be able to put on a good example for Shinji, but it's all right; he laughs a little at Mari's fingerguns, then gives Shinji a curious look about scariness. He doesn't give the impression that it's a bad thing to him, but... "Oh? Why's that?"
Mari declares she'll take all of the phone numbers. Kaworu gives her another amused look as he retrieves his smartphone. "You're insatiably greedy, aren't you? You and Captain Hebikura might have a lot to talk about," he remarks. Whether Mari retrieves her own phone or not, assuming she does have one on her, she'll get Yuta, Rikka, and Utsumi's numbers pop up into her address book. If she doesn't, Kaworu will simply transcribe them manually.
Mari also declares she can be very charming. "True," Kaworu agrees with another little laugh. "But Akane is very stubborn about keeping others out of her heart. To be clear, I'm on your side on this matter; I only want to give you fair warning."
To know the soul of an artist, look at their art... Another true thing. Kaworu shared his own art with her to express that she needn't see him as a threat... at least, not on a day-to-day basis. But to hear her call Akane's kaiju art... It's quite insightful.
"I meant Shinji and the Second," Kaworu clarifies. This probably doesn't stop Mari from having a lot to say about Mari x Asuka. Shinji likewise sulks at the concept, and Kaworu's smile finally fades entirely. "..."
But--it soon returns. "A lot of good things have come out of Tsutsujidai, it's true," he says gently. "It's Akane who needs to see that the most."
As Mari asks Shinji about unhappiness, Kaworu glances her way. He doesn't weigh in; this is between the two of them now.
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
Insatiably greedy?
"Yep-yep," chirps Mari, without a single second of hesitation,
because she's also incorrigibly shameless.
"You know, you're the second person to mention Captain Hebikura to me! I bet we'd get along like gangbusters, if he has your seal of approval~."
And so, smartphone popped out from her pants pocket, Mari collects that contact information with a song in her heart and on her lips. It's a chipper tune she whistles as she looks over the numbers, tapping a manicured nail against the smooth screen of her device.
Shinji mentions how scary Kaworu's competency can be. Kaworu presses the issue.
Mari judiciously does not respond - for this is a conversation for them - save for the artful loft of her dark brows.
Speaking of art -- the comparison seems to draw Shinji's questioning -- externally, of the value in Tsutsujidai. To that, she offers a simple question:
"Do you think there's only value in the positive parts of the human experience?"
... But internally, Kaworu's own comparison inspires something else in Shinji.
...I hope I'd... never hurt people like that...
Those searching, observant eyes watch Shinji in silence, throughout this shoulder-slumped process. They never stray (save for the briefest moment when Kaworu clarifies who he was comparing Akane to, prompting a pout for the ages from Mari that is belied by her airy, "well, that's almost as good~" that follows).
Shinji searches for an answer. But he can't seem to find it.
Fingers unlace. They press into the table.
And Mari lifts up until she is kneeling in her seat, rotating smoothly within it to swoop down like some predatory bird. She grips the back of Shinji's own seat, at either side of his head and, nestled close, what is only inevitable comes to pass.
*sniff*
... She smells him once more, as if she could capture this moment of self-doubt through scent alone.
"Hmmm. That's a familiar smell, but it's not your best," she muses, quietly. She tilts her head, so that blue eyes can peer at blue eyes.
"... Then let's put it like this. Tell me what would make Shinji Ikari happy. Truly happy. Absolutely, positively, certainly happy. Can you tell me?"
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
Shinji smiles nervously. "Sorry, I didn't mean it was bad." Though maybe it is, when some of the things Kaworu is good at involve Evas, and fighting, and battle and war... Shinji knows now Kaworu isn't perfect. So... do practical skills come naturally, or was there something else that pushed him into it? "But if it were me, I guess I'd be a little stressed out..."
That is the gentlest, subtlest way he can think to say that Kaworu does not have to be good at things. That's not even Shinji's place to say.
He's curious if Mari might be able to reach Akane somehow. Mari seems akin to something like... a bulldozer. A wrecking ball. One that you don't stay mad at. Or get that mad at in the first place. Maybe if Akane is going to close herself off, that would work...?
Mari asks him a question demanding more philosophy than Shinji thinks he's got. "No one wants to feel bad, right?" This does not feel like the 'correct' answer, and Shinji frowns. "It makes sense to avoid painful things." 'But'. There's a but there, unvoiced. His gaze flits to Kaworu before he forces himself to pry away, trying not to incriminate himself. "...But sometimes that would only make it worse. I don't know about value. It's just... impossible to only have the positive."
Even for Akane Shinjo, who has built an entire world for herself.
MARI SWOOPS. Shinji flinches back the barest minimum he has to in order to avoid perceived collision, only because anything more might activate Mari's prey drive further. He reddens deeply as she passes sniff test judgment, then discreetly turns his head to try and sniff himself. Unfortunately(?), Shinji can't smell emotions.
... Her next question is even worse! If Shinji knew much about happiness, he doesn't think he would be so Shinji about everything.
"I --" Shinji's shoulders bunch up as he tries to make himself smaller. Several ideas cross his mind. Multiple scenarios. If he had that, or he had this, would he be happy? Is it even possible for Shinji Ikari to be truly happy? He doesn't think about happy, he thinks about not hurting. And the easiest way to do that...
"Ah," he says, quietly, not looking at either of them, which is very difficult to do with Mari right in front of him. His eyes are straining to the side. "It's... safer, sometimes."
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
The second person, hm. Kaworu suspects the first is the First, and he smiles at the thought. He likewise smiles at Shinji, reassuring to his nervous--quite typical of their interactions, really.
"It's all right. I know you didn't. I'm simply curious what's scary about it to you." The answer he gets prompts him to nod... and leave it at that. As generally good at things as Kaworu is, it doesn't occur to him to think that Shinji might be talking about anyone but himself. Shinji usually fears the pressure of the expectations of others, after all.
His red gaze flickers then at Mari's question to Shinji--it reminds him of a conversation he'd had with him earlier that year. A desire not to hurt others... the reality that one will hurt and be hurt all the same... His smile turns subdued. Briefly, his and Shinji's eyes meet. It's impossible to only have the positive... Yes. It was true then, and it's still true now.
Is there only value in the positive parts of the human experience?
Kaworu supposes that depends on how one defines 'value.'
He smiles briefly when Mari asides back at him, but beyond that, he takes her sniffing Shinji in stride, as he does most things. Her question about what would make him happy, though--Kaworu is instantly at attention, focusing in on Shinji. But... he doesn't have a real answer for it. Kaworu breathes out a rueful breath of a sigh, even as he smiles.
Of course he wouldn't have an answer. If it were that simple, Kaworu wouldn't had to pour so much effort into learning it for himself.
All the same, he gently prompts, "Safer?"
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
It's safer.
Kaworu seeks the answer to Mari's question just as much as Shinji seeks to answer it. It's an interplay that doesn't escape Mari Makinami Illustrious' notice -- but even just by merit of physical proximity, her focus, her presence, is affixed to Shinji in this moment. Hands push a bit on the back of his chair, lifting her upper body; the result has the bespectacled pilot looming quietly over him, the light of the cafe briefly obscuring her gaze as it glints off red-rimmed glasses.
It's safer.
The answer is one that has Kaworu looking further. Mari's response, however, is just a small smile that seems to contain so many things it becomes difficult to quantify what unified meaning they might hold. Her brows soften, faintly.
"Safer," she echoes, after Kaworu's light-touched prompt. "... It's not a bad answer, from you."
Honest. Mari appreciates that sentiment.
Kaworu's question still lingers, though. And just as that moment reaches its apex--
"Err. Your -- tea is ready. But I can... ... come back, later?"
Their server returns, to Mari Makinami Illustrious, pinning Shinji Ikari with her presence at -least-, in the middle of what is clearly an intense and intimate moment for all three (?!).
Mari blinks. And instantly, she perks up, her expression beaming as she ejects from Shinji's personal space to bounce comfortably back into her seat.
"Waha, tea! This is exactly what we need right now. Ta muchly~!"
And down she settles, to her extremely sweet tea with her extremely sweet cake, hands rubbing together. She pauses though. Blinks.
"Ah, but we need to celebrate first! Tea is better with a happy memory behind it. And so..."
And here, Mari looks sidelong at Shinji. She offers a conspiratorial wink.
"... it's presently time for presents, don't you think~?"
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
Shinji doesn't shy away from Kaworu's gaze when they do meet. There's a resolve behind his eyes and the smallest of smiles. Something important that Shinji cannot fully articulate was learned that day. But he may need to learn to articulate soon, for Akane Shinjo's sake.
He is far less aware of anyone searching him as he struggles with his answer for happiness. None of the ideas he had are things he wants to say in a cafe, anyway, but Shinji's not sure any of the ideas were truly realized in his mind. Vague abstractions. What would make Shinji happy is being happy. Not how it works.
But unhappiness... can be safer. That's why it sticks, sometimes. Why someone might stay there, even if hands are outstretched. That seems a contradiction at first glance, but Shinji nods to Kaworu and Mari.
"It's familiar. Someone like Akane Shinjo," someone like him, "Might not know what happiness looks like. If you try and it hurts instead, then it makes more sense not to try."
It is honest. More honest than he meant to be. Only having the veil of 'about Akane' got the words out of his mouth.
The server returns and Shinji remembers the precarious position he's in, red from ears to his neck. He stammers out some manner of utterance that adheres to the tone of a thank you before the server is gone. Bringing his hands around the cup to feel the warmth calms him.
Mari continues to have plans. And winks during her plans. "D-Do I think...?" He looks to Kaworu, to Mari, back to Kaworu. Is it time now, after all that...?! ... That would be a relief.
Shinji pulls a small gift from his bag, wrapped in a metallic silver paper with a matching ribbon, barely largely than his palm. He holds it as if trying to hide it, as embarrassed about this as he was the cake. "...It's not much, but..." He sets it on the table in front of Kaworu. "I hope it's okay."
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
Safety isn't a bad thing. Peace isn't a bad thing. Even running away isn't a bad thing. Only those grimly latched onto a world of endless conflict would sincerely argue otherwise. But the devil (so to speak) is in the details. Despite Kaworu's gentle tone, there's an intensity in his gaze as he watches Shinji, listens for his answer.
It's familiar, he says. Yes... it's very familiar indeed. Kaworu's eyebrows slant upwards in the center by a few hairs. He doesn't speak.
As usual, the things Shinji says resonates deep within him... like a voice calling into an empty cavern. What the definition of value is, Kaworu won't assert, but he knows that if suffering is the price of this one kindred spirit, he pays it gladly.
'Err.'
Kaworu looks up at the kind server who'd helped him out earlier. He breaks into broad smile. "Oh no, now is fine," he reassures them. "Thank you."
His mint tea is more neutral, especially since he requested no sweeteners, to help balance out the cake. This isn't on purpose; Kaworu doesn't eat enough to appreciate balance in flavors. He takes a sip all the same and turns his smile towards Shinji and Mari.
A birthday celebration, for him... Cake, and tea, and finally presents. The very concept, so mundane that Lilim across the world take it for granted even in this, the Universal Century, has his head buzzing with anticipation. It shows, too--in his straighter posture, in the way he leans a little forward, in the way his smile is brighter than usual.
"I'm happy with anything you give me," Kaworu reassures him, still in his quiet cadence, but flush with a certain emotion. The glint of metal on his wrist as he reaches out to accept Shinji's present attests to that, too. Cupped delicately between his hands like a firefly caught at summer's end, he unwraps it with loving care until its contents are revealed.
He'll do the same with Mari's gift too, once she presents it... but maybe with somewhat less intensity.
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
'Someone like Akane Shinjo.'
In those moments before tea time, Mari watches Shinji carefully. She files something away.
"Hmmmm."
For Later.
For now, she just says one thing:
"A tour of Tsutsujidai might do you some good too, Puppy Boy."
But now! It's!
~* Tea Time! *~
A more sacred time there never was. Especially when coupled with the celebration of a most valuable life!
And so, Mari takes to her tea, making a cooing sound of happy contentment as she indulges in her drink while Shinji works his way through offering up his gift (because of COURSE she's going to wait for him to do it first; it's much too easy to just follow, after all!); she spies the exchange from beyond the rim of her cup and the buffeting steam of her cup with a look of absolute, tea time serenity and a blissfully calm "heh."
Kaworu goes at the wrapping of Shinji's present with such care! Such attention! Such intensity!
"Aaah~ such great tea."
It really just enhances the tea time experience, for those of Mari Makinami Illustrious' kind.
She waits. Quite patiently. And only when she's sure that Kaworu is done savoring the moment does she press the pad of her index finger against the top of her own, wrapped present, using that single-finger touch to slowwwwwwwly slide hers across.
"And for the second act! A little something to show what you mean to me."
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
There is much for later. For now, Shinji only nods. He might be afraid to go against anything Mari says at the moment. It isn't like a tour is a bad idea, if he's going to commit to this...
Now is tea. And presents. And the dread that no present might have been better than a poor present, similar to the cake situation. Why did Shinji do this to himself, and to Kaworu, twice? Kaworu says he'll be happy regardless, and Shinji can only pray it ends with emphasis on 'happy' and not 'regardless'.
Unwrapped, the gift reveals a wooden box, no larger than Kaworu's palm, and otherwise featureless outside of the windup key hidden at the bottom. The lid opens with a hinge, mirror on its other side, while the inside is occupied by small cylinder and its comb among other mechanisms: the components of a music box. Everything's functional and clean, but shows hints of aging, especially in the worn wood of the box. This gift was a discovery.
Already wound, it plays as soon as the lid is opened, emitting a tinny rendition of Ode to Joy.
"I thought I heard you humming it before," Shinji explains after enough recognizable notes have passed. "So when I found it..." He thought of Kaworu.
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
There really is something about Mari. It's utterly charming how much joy she takes in every single thing she does. Kaworu smiles at her as she coos over her tea, and his smile as he unwraps his first present remains at least a little for her too. She'd said, as a joke, that they were soulmates, but he's glad to have found a fellow in her.
The silver paper of Shinji's gift forms a little blanket for it to rest upon once it's revealed. Kaworu's eyes widen in wonder at the small, aged wooden box. It seems plain, but as he turns it over to explore its outside, he discovers the little wind-up key. Krrrrrk, krrrrk, krrrrk... Thrice he turns it, and when it seems like nothing happens, he opens the lid.
If before his gaze had filled with wonder, now it is suffused with delight, something he sees reflected back at him in the inner lid's mirror. The mechanisms draw pegs against the comb and plays out a familiar melody.
Shinji explains why he chose this for him. Cupping it between his hands, Kaworu gazes up at him with a smile that sparkles like the starry heavens.
"I love it," he says with quiet effusiveness.
He listens to the melody with shut eyes and a broad smile as it plays on, slowing and slowing until it stops. The only thing that keeps him from winding it up to listen all over again is Mari pushing her gift over with one finger.
"Oh?" he says at her introduction of the second act. His smile changes in cadence, a subtle knowingness and curiosity. 'What you mean to me' could mean anything, given their recent history. Hope entreats it must be positive. Kaworu chooses to believe in that hope as he opens the wrapping to reveal...
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
The time for gifts has arrived! One of those most important of gestures, to show what the receiver means to the giver through their choice.
But first:
"Pffft"
An intermission!
This is the warm giggle that rolls past Mari's lips as she catches sight of what, exactly, Shinji has given Kaworu. It is sudden, it is open, but most of all -- it is genuinely mirthful as she covers her mouth with her hands.
It says volumes to how considerate Mari is (sometimes (when she feels is appropriate (which is a nebulous qualifier))) that she restrains that laughter soon after it begins, as if not to spoil the moment. Her eyes shut, her smile lingering, she shakes her head as she pushes her gift the rest of the way forward. Once she has?
She's very quick to leeeeeeeean herself to the side until her shoulder nudges Shinji's, and the side of her head bumps gently against his.
"I always knew you were a puppy after my own heart~" sing-songs out the Unnumbered Child.
And the reason for this claim - and her laughter - soon becomes apparent when her own gift is opened. A simple gift box lies inside, easy to open. And inside that, wait two things:
1) A folder, containing sheet music for the piano.
2) A music box of lacquered wood; opening it reveals a carefully carved lion, resting with a lamb.
Both of gifts are for a single piece of music, a score that seems ominous at first, yet soon shows its true colors, swelling with pride, with strength, and an undeniably regal feeling.
Camille Saint-Saens' Marche Royale du Lions ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rE4CATvZ188 )
A gift to demonstrate belief.
"What a pair we make, don't we~?"
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
Shinji sighs out his relief as Kaworu expresses love for the gift. Kaworu might be someone who can make it sound like anything is worth loving, but there's a look in Kaworu's eye that Shinji chooses to believe couldn't be faked.
"I'm glad," he says, smiling his quiet smile. He looks at the cake, at the gift, and at Kaworu. Shinji had been so afraid before the day started. Now he has time to wonder why. It seemed... foolish to be.
Except Mari's laughing. Or trying not to. Shinji tenses. Mari is a jubilant personality, to put it mildly. Why is she trying not to laugh? This is worrying!
Also worrying: a gift about what Kaworu means to her. Shinjidoes not get the impression Mari is the 'Earth', but that does not lessen the interest he has in this. Not that he lets on. Mari nudges him, and Shinji's glance at her has more of his concern visible than curiosity. And a flush, but that's just Shinji.
Her gift finally revealed, Shinji's eyes bulge wide. "Huh?!" Is this... good or bad? It's... well, it is a little bit funny, but not if Kaworu's going to be disappointed.
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
Not anything is worth loving. But that's a distinction that wouldn't be immediately apparent, given Kaworu's general attitude. Either way, there's nothing about his demeanor now that's faked. Shinji's quiet smile is only the crown on top of this moment, as far as Kaworu is concerned.
That doesn't diminish Mari's gift in any way, though. While her mirth is curious, Kaworu is in no hurry to find out the cause; he'll learn soon enough, he's sure. And he does learn soon enough as he retrieves from the gift bag those two items: piano sheet music... and a second music box.
He laughs at the sight alone. "What a pair indeed," he says with warm humor, not put off at all by the second music box. He cranks this one too and opens the lid. Once again, his eyebrows lift before his expression melts into a smile, but there's something more muted about it, if no less sincere.
"A lion and a lamb, hm... I've certainly accepted your feelings, Mary," he says. He strokes his fingertips over the lacquered wood; then, he carefully places all three presents into the gift bag. "The sound of a music box is nothing short of divine, and yet it is wholly the province of man," he remarks as he does so. "I'll have to start a collection."
Once they're safely put away, Kaworu picks up his teacup and holds it between both hands. Though steam wafts from it still, he seems wholly unbothered by the heat. Maybe it's the contentment of a genuinely happy birthday wafting from him, too.
"Thank you, Shinji, Mary. I'm truly blessed to have friends like you." Meeting their eyes, he nods towards the cake. "Shall we complete the rite, then?"
<Pose Tracker> Mari Makinami Illustrious has posed.
Is this good?
Or bad?
To Mari, the answer is clear, but then...
Mari has a very special relationship with the idea of what makes 'good' and 'bad.'
In the end, though, everything works out! Mari claps her hands together with delight, head cant and eyes squeezed shut.
"Fabulous! The best music boxes tell their own tale between the music they were made to play and the sentiment behind their crafting. And it's a story that continues to grow with every passing year." Her head cants. Her tone is flighty. But her smile is sincere.
"I hope you manage to find only the best stories, for a long time to come."
The presents are put away. And in their place, the cake is just that much more prominent.
Shall they complete the rite?
"It's not a proper birthday without it!" declares the bespectacled brunette, straightening up and clearing her throat.
"This ritual demands two final things. A song to celebrate a life worth celebrating -- and an earnest wish. And so, without further ado..."
And so, on today, the anniversary of the Second Impact, Mari Makinami Illustrious sings a most happy, most celebratory birthday song for Kaworu Nagisa. A sweet and heartfelt prelude to a wish only the Fifth Child can make.
and you had better believe she is roping shinji into the song no matter what the cost
<Pose Tracker> Shinji Ikari has posed.
There is a deeper meaning here that Shinji clearly is not grasping. Some sort of injoke...? A lion and a lamb... Shinji's understanding of such a reference is woefully limited. Kaworu accepts it with good humor, though, and it seems both gifts are appreciated.
It would have been devastating to repeat the sushi incident again.
Shinji lets himself settle with Kaworu's good mood, restored from the gloom from before, and Mari's cheer, which has been stable throughout. He straightens with a nod. There is a rite to complete, and the one part he's confident about is the way the cake will taste.
Wait.
"... A song?"
Mari sings, as Maris do and precisely as Shinjis don't. But it is Kaworu's birthday, and Mari is too powerful, too resolute, to be dissuaded by the impossible.
The birthday rite is completely properly, even if one half of the duet enters in a little late and a little soft.
<Pose Tracker> Kaworu Nagisa has posed.
There will be cake, of course. But first, there will be song.
Truly, it's this that drew Kaworu's fascination to the rite of the birthday celebration in the first place. A song, earnestly sung, a leitmotif created only a couple scant centuries ago, now an inseparable component of the celebration. What a wonderful way to convey one's love for the one honored. Kaworu basks in Mari and Shinji's song, and never mind Shinji's soft, late vocals. He accepts their (his) love all the same with a joyous heart.
A song to celebrate a life worth celebrating, and an earnest wish. The server comes by with a candle and a lighter, then bows out to give the three their room. (Tip culture doesn't exist in Japan, but if it did, this one would be earning one hell of a tip. Kaworu will be sure they're paid their due.) An earnest wish. An earnest wish...
What could he possibly wish for that he doesn't have right now?
May these days last just a little while longer.
With a puff of breath he doesn't need, the candle is snuffed. As the cake is sliced and served, and before he relishes in his own slice, Kaworu watches the trail of smoke rise in a straight and clean line to pool on the ceiling.